


all truths hurt

by nezstorm



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Developing Relationship, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Future Fic, Getting Together, M/M, Soul Bond
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-04
Updated: 2018-03-04
Packaged: 2019-03-27 01:09:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 724
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13869873
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nezstorm/pseuds/nezstorm
Summary: “I can’t keep kissing strangers and pretending that they’re you,” Stiles tells him. Says it like he's wanted to for months.





	all truths hurt

**Author's Note:**

> prompted myself bc no one was prompting me. hence this mess.

“I can’t keep kissing strangers and pretending that they’re you,” Stiles tells him. Says it like he's wanted to for months, close to a year, when the only contact they've had was text and sporadic Skype calls because Peter wouldn't let them meet.

 

They're in the Preserve, near the Nemeton of all places, a pointless little patrol that Stiles dragged Peter to the first chance he had this summer break. He has mountain ash in a jar stored away in his pocket, too, in case Peter tries to cut their time short.

 

Peter isn't looking at Stiles, marching half a step in front of him through the underbrush. His shoulders hunched and tense because of what Stiles has just said.

 

Stiles is pretty sure his fists are clenched in his pockets, too.

 

He huffs and catches up to the werewolf, grabs his arm and pushes until he has Peter backed up against a tree. Peter could escape, but he holds still.

 

"I can't keep trying to move on from something that never even took place. You took that chance away from us, from me.  _ You never even let me _ \--" Stiles huffs, agitated, takes a deep breath before he continues, voice barely above a whisper. The words hurt, all truths do. "It's always  _ you  _ that I'm kissing, always  _ your  _ smirk that I'm trying to wipe away,  _ your  _ stubble I want to feel on my skin,  _ your  _ strong arms that I want holding me." He laughs, but it's a wet, mirthless sound. One that makes Peter wince. "I'm so hung up on you, on what we never had that I can't even give myself the chance to try and live a life without you in it. And I  _ don't  _ want to."

 

Peter looks at him and it's so weird to see him like this: tight-lipped and silent, stubbornly so, even though his eyes seem to be begging Stiles to stop.

 

But Stiles has every intention to fight for them both.

 

"I know that you're mine," he says as he stands in the middle of the forest, with Peter backed up against a tree. The setting sun illuminating only the lower part of Peter's face, the pained line of his mouth that Stiles has only ever ached to taste. "I know you've always known that I'm yours, too. And maybe I can't feel it the same way a wolf does, but you keep forgetting that I've been around you furry fucks for years and I know back bonds. And now, I know this bond, too."

 

Stiles proves it by looking inwards and focusing on the bond, feathering a mental hand along it, like the moths living in his belly since he's started falling for Peter.

 

He sees Peter's eyes widening a fraction, the there and gone flash of ice blue of his eyes, the only sign that Peter felt the tug on the bond.

 

Stiles licks his lips and tries again. "Quit it with this noble bullshit, forcing me to live a life without you in it so I can get a taste of freedom when I've never been free. Not without you," he whispers the last words, suddenly overwhelmed with it all, with fighting for Peter and what they have the potential to be.

 

"Do you trust me?" he finally asks and that gets him an actual reaction.

 

"I always do," Peter says, voice hoarse. His shoulders slump with the admission like he's already given up on the fight.

 

Stiles takes that as a sign to come closer, barely a breath away from Peter. "Then trust me to know myself and my own heart. You're it for me. Am I not the same to you?"

 

"Yes, yes. A million times  _ yes _ ." Peter's answer is instantaneous as he catches Stiles' face in his hands and cradles it, holding Stiles like he's something impossibly precious. "Never doubt that you mean everything to me. But you were so young, you still are, and I've already been crippled by life--"

 

"That doesn't make you any less," Stiles interrupts vehemently.  His next words are softer, his own hands holding Peter's where they're still cupping his cheeks. He smiles as he says, "I'm not your regular 21-year-old either, am I?"

 

Peter huffs out a laugh, defeated and triumphant, both, "You've always been one of a kind."

 

"Well, I've also always been yours."


End file.
